


Lorca's Tribble

by LadyFangs



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFangs/pseuds/LadyFangs
Summary: He would destroy a million universes, to have her back with him in only one.In which Captain Lorca gives Michael Burnham a gift...and that's just the start of it.(I swear, it was supposed to be light and fluffy...but between Jason Issacs talking about "merkins" and Captain Lorca being so damn shifty...well...this happened. Bonus points if you know where "Merkin" came from. Enjoy!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Lorca’s Tribble**

 

“Here.”

“What is it?”

A low chuckle as she looks down at the soft fluff in her hands, then back at him.

He is standing close. Deliberately close, with only the bundle of fur between them. But he likes this. Likes the way she looks at him, eyes wide with curiosity. It was the first thing he noticed about her, her eyes. So expressive, even when the rest of her wasn’t. Sometimes, he wonders if she knows just how much she gives away with those soft brown eyes of hers.

“It’s called a tribble.”

A tribble.

She stokes its fur, holding it up to her ear, listening. It gives a soft coo, a little shake. A purr.

He nods in approval. “I think he likes you.”

It gets a smile. One of the prettiest things he’s seen in a long time. Its infections, that smile. Soft, like the skin he wants to touch.

“What’s his name?”

“Merkin.”

A blank look at that one.

“I’m not sure I understand the etymology.”

A low chuckle.

“Does the carpet match the drapes, Burnham?”

“We have neither drapes nor carpet, Captain.”

This time, a real laugh. She’s thoroughly confused, and he loves it. Absolutely loves it, the innocence in her, still. It’s beautiful. It shines. It’s absolutely glorious and it gives him a rare moment of genuine, uncorrupted amusement. She frowns.

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Not in the way you think,” he tells her. “It’s not a bad thing.”

In her arms, another coo, followed by a warm vibration. She holds the animal closer to her chest. He reaches out to touch it, stroke its fur. Tickle it. It trembles in her arms. “Oh!”

Full lips part in an “o” shape. And he wants to kiss them. Trace the outline of them with his tongue. Slip a taste. He can do anything he wants. Have anything he wants. Have _anyone_ he wants.

He wants her.

But he also knows she’s nowhere near ready.

“Consider it a ‘thank you’ gift.”

“For what, captain?”

Ah…captain. He doesn’t want her writhing underneath him, calling him ‘Captain’. What he wants is her writhing underneath him, screaming his name. But…one step at time.

“For getting our spore drive operational. I knew you were special the moment I saw you.”

That makes her look at him, questioningly. He means it. Whatever way she chooses to interpret it. He doesn’t break her gaze and she looks away, out the window, into the twinkling blackness of space.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Indeed it is.”

“I was referring to the the view…sir.”

“That’s what I mean.” But he’s not looking out the window, he’s looking at her.

Another soft coo. In her arms, the tribble purrs still.

“What does it eat?”

“Anything. Here.”

He intentionally reaches around her for a fortune cookie, and holds it out to her. She takes the other end, and they break it. She feeds it to the tribble, and it shakes happily, the sweet sounds filling the room.

He smiles again.  “Are you going to read your fortune?”

The paper sticks out of the broken half of the cookie in his fingers and she pulls it out, reading the words. A blush. He can tell. It’s in the slight intake of breath, the dilation of the pupils.

“So, what’s it say? Care to share?” a smirk. She must have got a good one.

“I—I’m not quite…certain of the…context.”

He leans over her shoulder, brushing against her back, reading it aloud.

“You’ll soon get unexpected kisses in unexpected places.”

Her back is to him, giving a lovely view of her neck, Starfleet’s newest uniforms hugging every curve of her body. What he’d like to be doing is running his hands down her sides, holding her hips, pulling her against him. His mind dances with more than a dozen illicit thoughts. He has a ship full of beautiful women, already a few on rotation and yet the one he desires most is right here. Right now.

But she hasn’t graced his bed.

Yet.

Eyes settle on her ass.

He remembers that ass well. Holding it, rubbing it, spreading it, bouncing it…he remembers how she tastes too…If she only knew just _how_ _well_ he knows her…

“I’ve never been kissed before.”

A quiet confession. She’s stroking her new pet, looking down at it. Her reflection so clear through the window. He likes the way they look together. Him behind her. She’s the perfect size, the perfect shape. He knows how she fits against him, is intimately familiar with the way she fits around him as well… but, best to not tell her those things…yet.

It’s a good thing he’s a patient man.

“Maybe one day, you will be,” he tells her, leaning low enough for his breath to tickle her ear.

“Thank you, Captain."

She turns suddenly to face him, looking up. Those dark brown eyes so full. Oh, he loves them…

“For what?”

“For Merkin. It’s an honor to serve under a man like you.”

She’s so sincere it nearly kills him. Makes him feel almost _guilty_ for what he’s going to do.

Steal her.

Take her back with him when he goes. Return her to her rightful place, where she’s always been. By his side.

His wife.

The reason he came here, to find her again.

“Do you want to be kissed?”

Another hitch of breath. She’s so much the same yet opposite as well. His was fire. She’s cool, like snow. Still, it’s there…just below the surface. He knows what she likes, even if she doesn’t.

“I…” hesitation again. She’s caught off guard. It’s endearing really. That he can stump her. Confuse her. Make her uncomfortable. But he would never, ever hurt her.

“Only if you want me to. Only if you say yes.”

Permission.

 “That’s not…professional…sir. Or…appropriate. Starfleet regulations…” Stammer now. She’s trying to back out of it.

“I don’t give a damn about Starfleet regulations.”

Teeth nibble on plump lips. He wants to replace them with his own. In her arms, Merkin coos.

Still watching her, he reaches for another cookie and breaks it, feeding the tribble. Another fortune. He extends it to her and she takes it.

“A thrilling night is in your future.”

This time, she reads aloud. He knows this woman. Knows what makes her tick. Knows exactly what to do and say to turn her on. He remembers how it was the first time—watching her open up to him, bloom for him, come apart for him…and he wants to see that and experience that again.

“Only if you want me to,” he tells her, before brushing her arm and leaving the ready room and striding back out onto the bridge.

Eventually, she follows. It’s the end of her shift. The start of his.

She takes Merkin with her, the tribble purring quietly against her chest.

He knows she loves that tribble.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my mental health break from "Human Nature". Don't worry, it's still going. Just trying to fix a massive plot hole right now.

It’s 0100 hours when he leaves the bridge and makes his way into his room. The doors open and he blinks, surprised—but not.

 She’s there.

“Breaking and entering, now?” He asks, taking off his jacket and draping it casually across a chair, kicking off his boots and leaving them next to the desk.

“Yes.”

An eyebrow rises.

“Yes, to what?”

She’s there, watching him watch her.

At that, she falls silent.

“Hmmm…” Slowly, he circles, closing in on her like predator on prey. She stands her ground. Straight, proud.

“I wonder…”

His eyes are appraising. She feels the heat of his stare, feels like he’s undressing her with his eyes…but he doesn’t know…can’t possibly know…

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

A shiver. Goosebumps on her skin. It is the boldest thing she has ever done. The most daring she’s ever been. Her heart beats faster.

“Yes.”

So he does.

He kisses her, parting her lips with his tongue, guiding her mouth with his, and pressing into her body, letting her know he wants more than kissing.

A soft moan is the reward as her mouth follows his. Warm. Sweet. Wet. She likes the way he tastes. The way he feels, like she’s done this before. But she’s never done this... Not with anyone…

Lips slip down to her neck, on the soft, exposed skin there, as his hands unzip her jacket, letting it fall to the floor, giving him greater access, to her chest…

This is what it must feel like to be drunk, she thinks, her skin beginning to redden in the places his mouth has been. Large hands trail down her back, across her chest, squeezing her breasts, caressing her hips, gripping her ass and squeezing as he presses his body against hers again.

What he wants is unmistakable. And so is the pulsing sensation it engenders between her legs, the sudden wetness there, the erectness of her nipples and the throb in her lower belly. She’s never felt this before. But she knows what her body is saying. What it wants.

Him.

“You smell so sweet.” He tells her, warm breath tickling her ear. The side of her neck. His voice rumbles through her, low and deep. Almost a purr.

His hands work her pants, lowering them, slipping into her underwear and pulling those down too. The movement is sudden—rough and she gasps and tries to cover herself, but can’t. He grabs her hands and drops to his knees, face between her legs. She trembles, feeling his tongue and tries to pull away but he grabs her hips instead, holding her there, as he…licks.

“Unexpected kisses in unexpected places,” he murmurs against the lips of her womanhood. All she can do is hold on to his shoulders. He pauses a moment, and looks up at her.

“Yes?”

A tremble. A little nod.

She tastes amazing.

Silky and salty, heady. More wet than he remembered…her scent intoxicating and he wants so much more…one finger, to accompany his tongue…sipping on her, sucking on her, making her tremble, her legs wobble.

Her breathing is hard….fast…and he moves in tandem as she slowly finds the rhythm he’s set…in…out…circle, circle…dot dot. A flicker. A blow.

A sudden jerk. Head back, lips part in surprise.

Her legs give out.

 He catches her, lowering her to the floor, taking off her shoes, removing her pants, and his, before sliding up her body, stopping mid-way.

“Did you like that?” Words are muffled by the kiss on the inner left thigh. The right. His teeth scrape skin. A bite. Soon to be a bruise. Deliberate.

She’s turned away now, still twitching from the aftershocks, eyes closed, breathing fast. She can’t speak. He smiles. Just the way he likes her. And he knows, as he runs a finger down her chest and belly and she jumps again, that she loved it.

“A thrilling night is in your future.” He brings his arms around the back of her shoulders to cradle her head in his hands. He parts her legs with his own.

She responds by pulling his head down to hers, their lips meeting with urgency. And it’s with urgency he dips his hips, and pushes against her opening.

“Spread for me…”

She screams as he goes in all the way. It’s not gentle. And he groans as he feels it break, and the walls close in. Feels her clenching all around him, sending pulses down the back of his spine and into her body too…

“I promise, it’ll feel good in a moment.”

The entry was rough, but now he takes his time, slows it down for her. Not as deep. Gentle…and gradually, her whimpers turn to quiet sighs. And quiet sighs into not so quiet mewls. The only pause is to switch position—picking her up and carrying her to the bed before resuming what they’ve been doing. But his patience is starting to slip. The thrusts grow again with more urgency as he picks up the pace, probing her, going deep. Finding the spot….

She cries out.

There.

 Right there…he aims for it, feeling her legs shake. Their sex get wetter still.

 A new rhythm.

Her fingernails scrape down his back. He muffles his yell with teeth on her breasts. There will be a mark. Intentional. Like the one on her neck she won’t be able to hide. A bloom of fresh lust at the thought.

Possession.

She responds by biting his lip to muffle her cry. He brings her hands above her head.

Dominance. Control.

Her pleasure. Under his direction.

He can watch now.

 Watch her writhe underneath him.

He wants to hear her say it. Say his name.

 Harder. Faster.

The room is hot. A thin sheen of sweat covers her, making her skin glow.

“Come for me.”

She does. Back arched off the bed. Lips parted, his name on her tongue. She does _not_ say ‘captain’. And when she clenches around him again, her body in convulsions, her sex pulses against his, the sensation going straight up his spine into his brain triggering his own release as he collapses against her, spilling deep inside her body, his manhood throbbing between her thighs. She draws him in—this…what they do…something they’ve done so many times before but it has been so long and all of this feels so new.  He leans into the base of her neck…and bites down hard, making her flinch and shout.

There will be so many, many marks in the morning. And she cannot hide them all.

There’ll be a wet spot, he thinks as he catches his breath, and rolls off her, pulling her onto his chest and into his arms. More than a wet spot. But it’s his claim. His territory.

 Hands slip down her back, around the curve of her ass. To her hips, slender now, but not for long.  They’ll spread. He remembers how much he liked watching her body change, under his direction. How her breasts grew too. He gets to see it all again. Like a flower in bloom.

He smiles, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair as her body stills. He can tell she’s already starting to drift off to sleep. He’ll follow her shortly.

“Soon we’ll be home.”

Sleep claims her, and she can’t hear him. And even if she could, she’d have no idea what he’s talking about.

He’ll destroy a million universes just to have her back with him in one. And he will cross a thousand galaxies to keep her in his arms like this. Never, will he leave her alone again. One mistake cost him so much…

On the table, by the bed, the tribble purrs.

 “Good job, Merkin,” Lorca whispers reaching over and petting its fur, his wife fast asleep in his arms.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Waking is disorienting.

The first thing she is aware of is that she is not in her own quarters. She knows this, because it is quiet, and there is no snoring.

The second thing she realizes is that she is not alone. There is a body next to her, an arm draped around her waist. It is a warm body, a firm body, and by the feel of it…a _male_ body. 

The third thing she becomes aware of, is that she is as naked as the day she was born.

And it is this last thing that makes her stomach fall, and her entire body tense.

The arm around her squeezes, the body behind her shifts, and she prays that her bed partner will not wake. So she remains still, trying to recount the circumstances of what led her to her present state of undress, and to quarters that are not hers.

He stops moving. And when she believes he is still asleep, she gently unwraps herself from his embrace, and slowly, quietly slips out of the bed.

Here, she sees the truth of things.

And is stunned.

Quickly she gathers her uniform from the floor, and makes her way to the bathroom, doing her best to remain silent, lest she wake him. And it is here, when the lights come on, that she gets the first look at herself.

There is no denying it. The evidence is all over her.

Red marks on her neck and chest. Hand prints on her hips, and when she looks down she stifles the gasp…bite marks on the inside of her thighs.

There is no going to sickbay.

She would be forced to explain. And she doesn’t even know where to start. Her role in it, her part in it. Instigator.

She wanted it.

Wanted him to.

And he only did what she asked.

What had possessed her to do such a thing?

But more troubling….

Why doesn’t she feel…guilty?

A reflection stares back at her in the mirror.

Defiant. Haughty. And something else…

She doesn’t recognize this person. But even her body feels…different. She feels different. _Something_ has changed.

Eyes that look like hers watch her warily.

A head shift. A different view. She turns her body, studying it carefully, trailing her hands down her sides slowly, retracing the path that his had taken…her neck…her chest…breasts…hips…thighs…

Eyes slide close as last night comes back…and when her own hands slip between her legs, it makes her head tilt up and she moans. Touching herself.

And when she dares open her eyes again, she’s no longer alone.

He’s there.

Watching her, leaning against the frame of the entryway, wearing only a small smile.

“Good morning.”

She removes her hands, letting them fall to her sides. But this time, she’s not shocked. Nor surprised. Nor shy. Even knowing what he caught her doing.

They watch each other through their reflections in the mirror.

 “Hello.”

The voice that comes out doesn’t sound the same. It sounds…throatier, she thinks. But it also sounds…familiar.

Like she’s spoken this way before. And her reflection too—she’s seen that woman before.

Has felt this way before. Like she could fly. 

He closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his head to her shoulder, placing small kisses there. His hands caress her belly. Their bodies close together.

“What did you do to me?”

There is no accusation. Just a statement. She knows he’s done something. But what, she cannot face. There are two women here. The one in his arms, and the one in the mirror. Both identical, but yet so different…

“Only what you asked me too,” he tells her, still nibbling on her skin.

She takes another look. One dark, one light—their profiles shimmer together. She assesses how they fit—two pieces, matching. It’s so easy, effortless… almost…perfect in their contract.

Still no guilt. Only…desire.

Want.

It dawns slowly, the more they touch. The more he kisses. They longer she looks at their reflections. The longer she stares the more she becomes…aware.

He sees it. It’s in her eyes. Always so expressive. They tell him everything. And they are speaking now.

He knows that she knows.

“Context is for kings,” he whispers. Something he has told her once before. Back when she didn’t understand.

  “But what is a king…” she answers slowly, “without a queen?”

He smiles. She does know.

One hand remains on her belly, the other caresses her hips. He wonders if she knows the other thing.

“Who are you…to me, Gabriel? What did you do to me?”

No captain. No formalities. The same question though.

“Only what you asked me to.”

 His hands never stray from where they are. And as she looks at them, together in the mirror, it strikes her. Her hands cover his, stilling them.

“I’m not losing you two again. You’re coming home with me.”

Eyes close. A long exhale. A shudder.

Excitement. Apprehension.

“Please…come with me.”

He is asking. Not demanding. He wants her willingly, just as she was last night. He needs her to be willing. It will never work otherwise.

She weighs it. Stay or go?

“I can’t give you back to them,” He tells her.  “They will never set you free. No matter what you do. No matter how hard you try. _They_ don’t understand you. _They_ don’t know you. But _I_ do.”

The federation plays checkers. Pawns in the game. But he plays chess. The grandmaster.

She wavers. Torn. There is still a part of her that is rooted here. But…

“They won’t let you keep him.”

Him.

“How do you know?” At this, she turns to face him, dark eyes searching his. The smirk of satisfaction is gone from his face. Only quiet contemplation remains. Traces of sadness. She sees it in the way his lips turn down. The way he looks at her now—grief. Heartache. Sadness. It’s written plainly across his face, something she has never seen. Her eyes grow hot. He starts to swim in front of her.

 “Because I lost him when I lost you,” he tells her, pulling her into his body, burying his face in her hair.  “And you have no idea the things I’ve done to find you.”

Her arms wrap around him.

They stay there.

“I know you,” she says quietly. “I know exactly who you are.”

“I know you do.” He says. “Let’s go home.”

She nods.

“Take us home, husband.”

In the room, on the dresser, Merkin coos.

They both hear it at the same time, and laugh.

They’re going home.

.

.

“I have a question.”

It is late. They are making final preparations. One last jump. One last shot.

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye as they work, side-by-side, in his lab.

“Yes?”

“How did we first meet?”

She is curious. What brought them together in the first place?

At that, her captain walks off and comes back, Merkin in his hands.

“I met you at Starbase 96,” he says. “I saw you—attending a science conference. You were the most beautiful thing there.” He grins. “So I started to make my way over. But I got a bit…sidetracked.”

Merkin purrs, and he pets the creature.

A man bumped into me. Seemed to be in a hurry and he put this fella here, in my hands and ran off. I wanted to go after him, but then I caught sight of you again—heading to the launch bays. So I had a choice. Go after the guy, or go after the girl…and well…”

Lorca grins, stroking the soft fur as he talks. Her eyes light up at the story.

“I made a choice. I caught up to you, introduced myself, and asked you to marry me. You said yes.”

At that, she’s incredulous, and crosses her arms. “I don’t think I would agree to marry a stranger.”

He laughs.

“Well. You did. I asked you to marry me, and I got down on one knee…” he demonstrates, kneeling and looking up at her.

“And you looked at me just like that, until…” he holds out Merkin, and on cue, it trembles a bit, and coos.

She absolutely cannot help it. The creature makes her smile and she takes the tribble, clutching it to her chest, feeling it vibrate against her chest happily.

Lorca gets up.

“And that’s how I got you to say yes.”

Michael laughs.

“So you seduced me with furry things.”

“I wasn’t the one to name him Merkin.”

“Oh? So who did?”

At this, he smirks.

“You. Take a wild guess as to why.”

She quickly turns away from him, but her shoulders shake with quiet laughter.


End file.
